He was not a Born wolf meant to be Alpha from his first cry. He was not a pup able to tackle wolves twice his age. He’d never been trained to face fears and overcome them, despite them threatening to break him.
But Pasquale had.
In some ways, Pasquale was more wolf than Dominic ever hoped to be, and more Capo as well. Understanding that, however, didn’t change reality—Dominic was the head of Lombardi Pack, Bianchi was no more, and Pasquale’s place was precarious at best. If it wasn’t for his nose and the skills he had in combat, he was sure he wouldn’t be as involved in the inner workings of Lombardi as he was.
He pressed harder, working his legs faster. The burn helped clear his mind and singed away the bitter taste of pissed-away loss he couldn’t recoup. He’d have enough to face with finding Heath … and finding the missing wolves who’d once been with Bianchi. Not all of them had come with the roll-in under Dominic, and it worried Pasquale.
“You don’t like cars.”
He slid to a stop. Giuliana was right beside him, close enough he should have known she was there. Close enough that her citrus and heated scent filled his nose. It was her, femininity hidden behind power. Her glittering gaze zeroed in on him, and she saw too much.
He rolled his shoulders. “What?”
“You don’t like cars.”
“Why do you say that?”
She narrowed her eyes before nodding her head at her front door. Her car was nowhere to be seen.
She ran with me. How did she keep up?
Confused, and more than a little intrigued, he followed her up on to her porch covered in green plants. He bit back a groan as she caressed a broad leaf on a tree.
Mine.
I know, but we can’t have her.
Says who?
Me.
Pfft. I run the show.
See when’s the next time I let you go racing after bunnies. Who’s the bitch now?
His wolf growled at him, but he ignored the beast. They’d been having this argument for months since coming to this pack, and Pasquale wasn’t in the mood to start it up again. He only focused on following Giuliana into her home.
It was warm and vibrant, all colors and soft pillows. She’s created something more of a den, with an open floor plan where he could see her entire space. Her living room flowed into her dining room and kitchen. Farther back, she had a large bedroom with a low-slung platform bed. He’d never seen a place set up quite like hers. Clothes were neatly hung on poles connected to the wall, like racks at a clothing store, and her shower was surrounded in glass. He figured the toilet had to be in a closed-off space. From anywhere in her home, she could see clear to the other side.
“Do you feel okay in here?”
Pulled from studying her home, he blinked and faced her. She stood in the center of her living room, hands up and palms out, like she was soothing him. He frowned. What the hell was she doing?
“What are you talking about?”
She stepped closer and lifted her hands higher. “Just be calm.”
Okay, maybe he needed to reevaluate how perfect she was. Giuliana was acting like a loon, advancing on him in stilted, slow movements. She kept her gaze on his, but he saw the way she slightly tilted her head, the subtle message of submission.
It … fucked up his world.
The soft slope of her neck, the gentle pulse throbbing, the way she moved. Pasquale’s wolf thrashed against his ribcage, howling his need and desire. With each step she took, her scent wrapped around him, sliding over his skin.
When she got close, she pressed her body to him, and he had to clench his fists to stop himself from bending her over the nearest surface and taking her.
“I’m going to take your hand, okay?”
She could take whatever the fuck she wanted. Her hand was so hot as she lifted their joined hands toward his face.
“Come on, big boy.”
He growled, and she growled back.
Fuck.
“I’m not the one about to go crazy. Now, stop being an asshole and let me help you.”
His wolf wanted to take a nip out of her hide for the disrespect, but at the same time, it loved the fact she’d done it.
Confused bastard.
Speak for yourself.
But when his fingers touched his face, he sucked in a breath. He’d partially shifted. His muzzle elongated, hair had burst out and spread across his face.
“It’s been happening ever since I told you to get in the car.” She wrapped her other arm around his waist and rested her head on his chest.
Giuliana was not a short woman by any means, but next to his height, she was small. He inhaled her scent deep into his lungs and held his breath.
“You shouldn’t be so close like this,” he forced himself to say. He wanted her right the fuck where she was, and closer still. But his wolf was losing his mind, and he could smell her arousal on the air.
“Sometimes, when Dominic—”
“I would hope you are not about to tell me you do this for him,” he growled. He sounded like a jealous man. He wasn’t … right?
She curled her fingers against his chest, digging her nails in enough to sting. A warning. She was warning him.
Okay, that’s not hot at all—
Pfft!
Did his wolf just pfft him?
“Interrupting a lady is rude. As I was saying, when Dominic gets like this, Zoey helps. Her touch seems to make it better.” Giuliana pulled back and looked over his face. “I guess I can do that for you too.”
Pasquale touched his muzzle. His lips were back to normal, his skin smooth. While his wolf was pressing to come out, it was so he could have the woman in front of him instead of the fear of closed-in spaces.
He nodded. “Yes.”
Giuliana sighed, tracing some shape on his chest. “It took me years to get used to cars. My need to escape sometimes drove me to conquer it. But many wolves can’t be in them.”
Her quiet understanding without ridicule was new to him. Pasquale’s father had always told him he was weak for not being able to stomach the inside of a car. Of all the fears his father had drilled out of him, claustrophobia was not one of them.
He’d soothed himself by thinking it was because he was more wolf than his father. Because he was more tied to the earth, he couldn’t be as human. Pasquale still viewed it as a failure. A history of being the shield when he should have been the crown had taught him to think that way.
Pasquale took a step back, severing the connection with Giuliana. He needed to keep his head clear. Allowing himself her comfort would only bring out more urge to claim her.
Take her.
No. I can’t.
Oh, you can. You just won’t.
Same thing right now. Shut up. I’m thinking.
Being with her, allowing his wolf to rule, would only mean he’d have to destroy her life. He couldn’t do it. Not to her.
Giuliana sighed, but Pasquale shook his head, stopping her from saying anything. “Thank you for helping me.”
Giuliana crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her breasts for his inspection. She probably didn’t mean the move like that, but it made his mouth salivate all the same.
“Let’s just put it out there. Our wolves recognize each other as mates.”
Hearing the word on her tongue made him tremble. Him, one of the deadliest wolves in Encantado.
“Yes,” he answered.
“But neither of us want to claim the other.”
“Correct again.”
She swallowed, and he could detect … pain. As a scenter, he was aware of subtleties most wolves could only dream of. For those with his skill, they could get information on the wind from miles around. Pasquale could double that, easily. The slightly metallic-tinged scent was similar to a physical wound, but less heated.
He may not be able to claim his mate, but he wouldn’t abide her being hurt.
Pasquale closed the distance between them and slid his fingers
into the cool thickness of her hair. He gripped the strands, forcing her head back so she had to look at him. Her eyes widened, and fear danced in her gaze. And there it was—part of why he could never take her.
She feared control, capture, dominance.
“I want my mate. I’d love nothing more than to taste every part of you, make you mine. Make your knees weak with pleasure. Make sure your body will only want mine for the rest of your days.”
He pulled her closer, his mouth hovering just a hair’s breadth from hers. He wanted her hot, not afraid. Never of him. “Don’t think, for a moment, I deny you because you aren’t everything I could want in a mate. Don’t think I don’t fight my wolf at every step. I’ve been here long enough to see the sort of woman you are, Giuliana. But my wolf … wants things you can’t accept. Needs what would only send you running.”
It was more than that, but he couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t share what he knew in his heart. The Lombardi Pack didn’t know the dynamic of the Bianchi. Didn’t know he was Primo’s son. Didn’t know he’d been meant to be Alpha. The wildness of Kalinda’s rise to the Trinity Council, Zoey’s pregnancy, Silva living among them—a Fae Queen—and attacks on Encantado probably helped to keep his secret under wraps. To help, he never shifted around them, never let the power rise to the surface.
Claiming Giuliana would force him to.
There couldn’t be two Alphas in a pack for long, and Pasquale had a kingdom in shambles.
Let them believe he was only a scenter and Fabiana was the chosen one. It was safer that way. If he had to lose his mate to keep his pack with a home and safety, he’d do so.
They’d been hurt enough.
Giuliana needed freedom as much as he needed control. Their lives had ruined what they could have been.
“We aren’t saying no to each other because the other is lacking.”
It was a statement, but he heard the question in it. She was asking, more than anything, if he was saying no to her because he found her less than what he wanted. For a moment, just a moment, he would be her mate.
For a few heartbeats, he wouldn’t be so alone in the world.
He crashed his lips to hers.
Chapter Three
Pasquale’s mouth was burning silk and bite. Giuliana had never been kissed like this.
There was mastery in his touch, command, as he used her hair to turn her head and fit their mouths together. The way he guided her was wild. His tongue danced over hers, a broad stroke of fire blazing over her nerve endings. But it wasn’t just her mouth. Pasquale stayed a rock, hard and unforgiving, and raked her over him. He used his free arm to warp around her waist and push and pull her body against him from side to side. It caused a delicious friction across her nipples and rubbed her stomach against the hard plane of his abs.
Giuliana was swaying, wrapped up in his embrace and his absolute demand of her movements. He gifted her with his kiss and forced her to experience every nuance.
He broke their lips apart, and she lurched forward, following his deadly touch. His fist in her hair stopped her short, pain pricking her scalp and fanning the fire.
“Have you ever come from a kiss, bella?”
Beautiful. He called me beautiful.
She shook her head, and he smiled. The cocksure, half-twisted grin changed his features. It was playful and daring at the same time.
“I’ll ask you that again in a little bit.”
Mine!
Yes, for right now, so let’s enjoy this.
So pretty.
Agreed.
Pasquale took her mouth once more, but this time he used his other hand to grip her throat. The threat of his power rolled over her, making her tense. His fingertips soothed for a moment, rubbing their way over her pulse until she melted back into his touch.
Won’t hurt you.
The thought flittered through her mind just as he lifted her off the floor by her neck and stalked to her dining room table. He placed her on the tabletop, never releasing his hold, and devoured her.
She panted, trying to keep up, as her nipples hardened to the point of pain and her stomach clenched.
“Open your eyes. Don’t look away.”
A demand. One she couldn’t ignore. She forced her eyes open and met Pasquale’s much darker ones. An edge of gold around the rim made her suck in a breath.
What—
He didn’t let her finish the thought. Power wrapped around her, licking its way over her skin. Her clothes didn’t matter; there was no barrier any longer. She moaned into Pasquale’s mouth, sucking on his tongue. Her hips jerked, craving friction, and he gave it to her. He gave her everything she ever could have wanted. Similar to Dominic’s Alpha call but softened to a brilliant edged blade, Pasquale’s call sliced through her fear, through her need to break free. All that was left was Giuliana—without the history, without the need to fight back. She could flow, basking in him, without the baggage of the years.
Tears pooled in her gaze.
She didn’t recognize that woman, didn’t know who she was anymore. But Pasquale saw it; his studying gaze missed nothing.
He pressed his power closer, sliding down over her collarbone to her breasts. Phantom tongues licked across her nipples, rough, making her jerk. Pasquale mirrored it in the kiss, tasting his way along her sensitive gums above her canines. They exploded in her mouth, giving a dangerous edge to their embrace.
Giuliana caught her breath, holding on, waiting, and Pasquale was there, spreading his touch across her stomach and down under her pants to her pussy. A hot, fierce swath of force worked her clit.
Pasquale was everywhere. Her mouth, her breasts, between her legs. They all worked together, sending waves of heated pleasure through her. It rolled, crashing against her with more force, making her thighs clench around his waist. She gripped his shirt, using him as an anchor in the maelstrom.
Wetness slicked the insides of her thighs, and she rolled her hips. Each rock brought her closer to the edge, each a new bite of zinging force. She throbbed with it, and it swelled from her groin and up through her body.
Yes!
She leaned back, bracing her hands on the table. Pasquale never broke the kiss, and she trusted him to hold them as she lost herself. The new position allowed her to move more freely, riding his power like she wanted to ride him. She took, claiming her needs, begging for more. Pasquale met her, adding more force, more touch.
Giuliana couldn’t hope to best him, to ask for more than he could give. Without a doubt, she knew he could do this without touching her at all. That he could leave her a pile of undulating mess on her table over and over again.
Her soul jerked, her wolf howling, her eyes watering with strain. It couldn’t be tears. It couldn’t be. But Pasquale knew better. His thumb caressed over her cheek, soaking away the moisture, and she came undone. That singular, soft touch, blew her apart.
She screamed into his mouth, her world darkening until only his face remained. He furrowed her brows, his eyes half-open as pain spread across his features.
He’s going to let go.
She knew it and understood. But in the wake of what they could be, it only made her cry harder. The woman who never cried, who never let herself look weak. He’d broken her without even trying, and part of her hated that they had seen this side of mating.
That they’d even tested it.
There was nowhere to escape, nowhere to run, and for the first time, she wished her space had a closed room where she could hide. Instead, she let the kiss break and faced Pasquale. He was swollen and stiff between her legs, and she realized he hadn’t attempted to take his own pleasure.
When was the last time someone had taken care of her?
When was the last time she could remember not having to fight for what she wanted?
He framed her face with his large, callused hands and thumbed away her tears as fast as they fell. “Do you see now?”
“That was … Alpha—”
He shook his
head. “I’m no Alpha.”
But he was. She’d tasted it, knew it. And with that came another realization. He couldn’t claim a mate without his power coming out. He’d be forced to. A wolf’s mating called up every instinct they had, switched their allegiance to their mate first. She was Dominic’s Enforcer now that Romano was his Capo. If her Alpha wanted to punish her, Pasquale would attack. Every instinct within him would be focused on protecting her.
And she’d learned long ago what an Alpha’s protection was.
Of course, The Fates—those bitches—would give her a mate who was everything she wanted to get away from. Life had taught her men held on too tightly and confused love with near obsession of safety and care.
No, she couldn’t have that. Never. She needed to be free, needed to live her own life and make her own choices. She wouldn’t be able to do that with Pasquale. He’d made his point clear in ways he couldn’t imagine.
It wasn’t about wanting each other. It was more about the fundamental difference in their wolves. Perhaps, if she had met him before, things would be different. She could appreciate that he understood, that he saw what others around her didn’t, and was letting her be.
Just sucked it had to be her mate.
“You may not be a recognized Alpha, Pasquale, but no wolf can do what you just did if they weren’t Alpha.”
He shrugged, but it was pained. “I know, but who I am doesn’t matter. There’ve been too many changes lately. Maybe if things had been …” He let his words trail off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Things are the way they are, and we have a pack member to find. This thing between us will only make things messy. Focusing on the job at hand is better all the way around.”
Mated to the Prince (Portal City Protectors Book 3) Page 2
